


stiles up on the rooftop click click click

by ninash



Series: werewolves in a winter wonderland [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: 25 Days of Sterek, Christmas, Christmas Lights, Hurt Stiles, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Short & Sweet, Stiles loves Christmas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-01
Updated: 2017-12-01
Packaged: 2019-02-12 19:35:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12966846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ninash/pseuds/ninash
Summary: All Stiles wanted to do was put up some Christmas lights, but the universe actually hated him.Lights





	stiles up on the rooftop click click click

Derek knows Stiles loves Christmas. He has to sit through the pack graning about Stiles playing Christmas music in July. 

“But it’s Christmas in July!” 

“No Stiles.” 

Looking over Stiles' shoulder while they're supposed to be researching and seeing him looking at some new candy cane hot chocolate recipe. Listening to the Sheriff tell Stiles he can’t start putting up the decorations until after Thanksgiving. 

Safe to say everyone was dreading December. Scott told them that once December actually got here that Stiles wasn’t that bad. Nobody believed him. 

Derek watches the minutes slowly tick by. Watches the digital clock change from 11:59 to 12. Watches the little date next to the time flicker to 12/1/2017. He sighs and turns over in bed. It’s officially December. An image of a rosy-cheeked Stiles pops into his head. A heavy sigh leaves him as he shakes his head and closes his eyes. 

Derek’s phone ringing is what wakes him up. It’s still dark out and when he looks at the phone it's a little after three am. Of course, it’s Stiles that's calling him. 

“What.” He answers in a flat tone. 

“Hey Derek. Fine night innit?” Stiles sounds breathless and a strange sound leaves his throat at the end. Like he’s half choking on something. Derek sits up and rubs the sleep out of his eyes. 

“Stiles what do you want?” Derek grits his teeth and slings his legs over the side of his bed. 

“So obviously I would have called Scott but he's in Mexico with his mom visiting family and Isaac went with him and there’s no one else I really could have called.” Stiles' voice trails off at the end and something shifts on his side of the phone and Derek hears a low curse from the boy. 

“Stiles.” Derek grounds his teeth together. 

“I’m in a bit of a situation and if you could hurry over to my house that would be great.” The boy pauses before he finishes. “Preferably at supernatural speed please.” There's a sound on his side of the phone before the line goes dead. 

Derek sighs again, a soft put-upon sigh before he pulls on jeans and his boots. Running a hand through his hair and pulling on his leather jacket. He checks in on Erica and Boyd who are curled around each other in their room before he grabs his keys and pulls the loft's door shut. December in California is usually lukewarm but this year the air is already beginning to nip at your toes. Not that it bothered the werewolf who ran supernaturally hot. Pulling up to the Stilinski household he expected a lot of things. Different scenarios running through his head as to what Stiles had gotten himself into. This. This was not one of them. 

Stiles was currently hanging upside down with his legs wrapped in white Christmas lights. His arms were wrapped around his upper half because he was only dressed in thick sweats and a cotton thin long sleeve shirt. His body swayed with any micromovement he made. Only one of his feet had a boot on, the other sticking out of a bush a few feet away. Seemingly not realizing Derek’s presence Stiles let his arms drop and bent himself up to look at the lights wrapped around his legs. His body trembled with the effort it took to hold the position as well as the chill in the air. 

“Fuck.” Stiles body sagged back down, his voice carried a hint a pain. The lights hanging him from the roof shifted and something popped. More of the lights popped and Stiles yelled as the lights holding him up were no longer doing that. 

Derek darted forward and slid under Stiles to catch him before his head smashed into the ground. Stiles groaned as he pushed up. He’s haphazardly splayed over Derek’s chest in a very ungraceful way. There’s a dent on Stiles's forehead from where his head made contact with Derek’s teeth. 

“You’re such an idiot.” Derek said in a flat tone as he pushed Stiles’ off him and stood up, brushing off dirt and grass from his jeans. Stiles let out a small fake laugh and stood as well. 

He stumbled on a clump of grass Derek had turned up with the heel of his boot. Stiles bent down and rolled the leg of his sweats up on his left leg. Derek frowned and glared at the boy’s leg. There were small pinprick holes littering his ankle from where the bulbs from the lights dug into his leg. Small micro-sized shards of glass sticking out of some of the cuts. Stiles muttered under his breath about this only happening to him. Derek followed Stiles into his house and up the stairs into the bathroom. Stiles pushed the leg of his sweats up as high as it could go (which was a little bit above his knee). He sat down on the edge of the tub and pulled his socks off, sticking his legs in the tub. He asked Derek to get the first aid kit out of his room, which, why was it in his room and not like in a hall closet or something? As Derek left the bathroom he heard the water start and Stiles hiss as he stuck his legs under the water. The first aid kit he found could probably survive someone a nuclear apocalypse. The box was large and had medical supplies spilling out. Everything from a sutra kit to alcohol prep pads to large rolls of gauze and medical tape. Derek knew Stiles was a klutz but this? Derek didn’t know what to make of this. The kit also had been resting next to a few different splints. Derek recognized one for an ankle and a chest brace. 

Derek walks back into the bathroom to Stiles drying his legs with a towel and staring down at the wounds with a furrowed brow. He looks up at Derek when he walks in and asks for the needle nose tweezers. It takes Derek a second of hesitation to understand which pair he’s asking for because there are three different pairs. Stiles grips the tweezers in a white-knuckled grip before he digs into his leg to get the glass out. Dropping the shards into the tub. Derek can smell the fresh blood as the shards rip further into the boy's skin as he pulls them out. Stiles grimaces as each shard comes out and his face goes pale as small trails of blood run down his ankle. After the glass is out and Stiles makes a face at the cloudy puddle of blood in the tub from mixing with the water, he asks Derek for the tub of neosporin. 

It’s a numbing and mechanical process Derek realizes. One Stiles is all too used to. Cleaning the wound, treating it, wrapping it. Cleaning up the glass and rinsing the blood down the drain. Something he thinks he should ask Stiles about but doesn’t. 

Instead, he offers to finish putting up the lights. Stiles fucking light’s up (pun intended). He nods eagerly and rushes to put a new pair of socks on before they go back outside. Derek climbs onto the roof, actually using the ladder to Stiles’s surprise. Throws the boy his red hoodie that had been discarded next to the bin of lights. Stiles puts the hoodie on after a half hour of them standing outside. Stiles constantly making snide comments on if the lights were crooked or if they were hanging right. Because of course Stiles wouldn’t own anything other than icicle lights. It takes two hours for Derek to hang the lights. The sun has barely risen, the sky just starting to lose its inky nothingness color. Derek tosses the plastic bin to the ground and climbs down the ladder. Stiles is sitting on the ground with his knees propped up and his arms crossed over them, his chin resting on his arms. He’s asleep. 

It gives Derek pause enough to stop and stare at the boy. He’s never seen Stiles sleeping before for obvious reasons. Derek always thought Stiles would twitch in his sleep. Considering how much the kid moves around when he’s awake. But Stiles is still in slumber. His chest barely rising and falling. A breeze tousles his bangs that are slack against his forehead. His hair sans any product and since he’s grown it out, it’s like a warm halo around his forehead. Derek shakes his head and grabs the bin, along with a broken strand of lights, the one that had hanged Stiles. He throws the strand out and puts the bin back in the Stilinski shed along with the ladder. 

He walks back to the front yard where Stiles’s hasn’t moved an inch. Really Derek could just leave him and it’s a tempting thought. Derek sighs and stoops down in front of the boy. He places a hand on his shoulder and shakes him. Derek expected Stiles to jerk awake. Fall onto his back and spasm. But Stiles’s slowly opens his eyes and looks up at Derek with warm brown eyes. There are creases on his face from where his face was pressed into his hoodie. Stiles purses his lips and his tongue runs along his upper teeth as he sucks in a breath. Derek stands as Stiles slowly works himself into a standing position. Grimacing when he puts full weight on his legs. His tongue darts out and wets his bottom lip as they both make their way to the front door. Derek stays at the bottom step to the porch as Stiles’s trudges up and pushes the door open. He turns to look at Derek and offers him a small soft smile. 

“Thanks big guy. Really meant a lot to me.” His voice is an octave lower and Derek stays silent as he closes the door and locks it. 

Derek stays until he hears Stiles climb into bed and waits till his heartbeat evens out again. Once the boy is fast asleep Derek climbs into the camaro and drives back to the loft, all in a daze. It’s a side of Stiles he’s never seen before. All soft faced and relaxed. 

Maybe Scott was right. Maybe Stiles wasn’t so bad.


End file.
